My Fellow Americans
by Dreamscapes Symphonic
Summary: The worst case scenario: The Capitol Building is attacked during the State of the Union. The survivors are left to pick up the pieces, but will they be able to rebuild? Originally posted 404. Revised version.
1. Chapter 1

4-23-06 A/N: This is a polished, edited version of my story My Fellow Americans from 2004. Rereading it, I found a lot of things I wanted to fix, so I decided to take it down, tighten it up, and repost it.I'mreposting theentire thing in one go today.Thank you to everyone who read it when I originally posted, for your support and constructive criticism.

Disclaimer: I do not own the West Wing. I'm not getting paid for this. I'm not in any way affiliated with the West Wing.

CHAPTER 1

9:17 PM EST. Leo McGarry's Office

"Margaret! Margaret!"

Margaret looked up from the papers she was typing for Leo and saw Donna rush in, her face bright red as if she'd been running through the White House. Which in fact, she had been.

"What is it, Donna?" she asked, inwardly groaning. She had hoped to use the quiet time to finish the work that she had neglected today. But if Donna was having some kind of personal crisis, it looked like she was in for a long night.

"The speech isn't on the air!"

"Are you sure you're on the right station?" Margaret asked, her eyes straying back to the incomplete sentence in front of her.

"It isn't on any of them! There's nothing playing!"

"Sit down," Margaret said, "and tell me."

"I was at my desk watching the speech and when the President went up and started speaking, the station suddenly went dead. Like the TV had shut off, but the other stations, the ones that weren't showing the speech, they were fine."

"It's probably nothing," Margaret said, "An error at the station, but we should go tell someone anyway."

As she stood up, a tremor passed beneath their feet.

9:07 PM EST. The Capitol Building

Josh had to pee. The speech was going to begin in seven minutes and he knew there was no way he was going to last through it. So, muttering something intelligible to Sam as he passed, he raced out of the room, trying to remember where in the Capitol Building the bathrooms were.

Sam felt Josh brush by him and slipped him the paper with his seat number on it. The last thing any of them wanted was a picture in tomorrow's paper of the Deputy Chief of Staff wandering aimlessly through the crowds.

Toby was muttering to himself about all the things he should have added to the speech and how so many parts sucked and were going to screw them over. Nobody was listening.

CJ was wobbling in four inch heels and hating how they made her even taller. She paced the room best she could, mentally preparing herself for the crazy press conference that would be the next day.

Leo was wondering where his deputy had gone and hoping that the bonehead would come back before he had to send a search party. Again.

The President was going over some last minute things about the speech with the First Lady.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the United States."

"Damn it, Josh," Leo muttered as the President went out and they went into the corridor. He looked around, but the corridor was empty except for them.

"CJ," he said, "Do me a favor. Find Josh, beat him to within an inch of his life, bring him back, and let me finish it."

CJ grinned, but the grin faded when she saw how extremely pissed Leo was. "Yes sir." She said and wobbled off down the hall.

9:15PM EST

The others took their seats in the crowd. They had good seats, pretty close to the podium. Sam looked around at all the other guests that were there along with Congress and Senate. There was a football player who had won the Super Bowl a few years earlier and was an anti-steroid activist, a movie star, and a member of the British Royal family. A distant cousin probably. There were also a few children, including an adorable three year old clutching her daddy's hand. Her daddy happened to be a Senator from Mississippi. With a little wave to her, he settled back in his chair to watch the reward of months of hard work.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of Congress, my fellow Americans-"

That was when the lights went out.

9:15 PM EST

Where was he? CJ had looked all over the ground and first floors and now she was racing up the stairway as fast as she could in those stupid shoes. She was beginning to feel as pissed as Leo had looked. She was already late for the speech.

"Josh!" she yelled, climbing yet another flight of stairs.

Third floor. She didn't see anyone, but he'd probably been looking for a bathroom and there might be one here. She didn't spend much time in the Capitol so she really didn't know. As she walked past a ladies' room, the lights flickered and went dead. Heart pounding, she felt her way along the wall.

"JOSHUA, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"

"CJ?" His voice was faint.

"Josh?"

To her relief she heard his footsteps coming up the hall behind her. "I'm in the men's room doorway." He said, "Right ahead of you."

9:16 PM EST

People were starting to panic. Ron Butterfield sent a few of his men to guard the President, then he and the others slipped out the door.

When they got to the front doors, he realized they had been locked from the outside somehow. This was no ordinary black-out. They were trapped.

The agents surrounded the President. He wanted to grumble about it, but knew it would be no use. Suddenly one of the agents, a young woman named Alyson, froze. She could swear she could hear a faint 'tick, tick' coming from the podium.

CJ walked quickly, trying to act calm, in the direction Josh's voice had come from. She could hear the footsteps quickening when she did and was about to break into an all-out run when someone grabbed her elbow and pulled her through a door. She lost her balance and hit her face on cold tile.

Josh was sitting next to her, shielding a lighter with his hand. The flame only illuminated his face, which was pale. He pulled CJ further into what she had to assume was the men's room. The footsteps outside kept going and soon faded.

"What the hell is going on?" he whispered, dropping his hand.

"I don't know." CJ said, "But we should get back to the President."

Josh agreed with her, but what he really wanted to do was stay in here, safe, until the lights came back on. But the lights didn't come back on.

9:17 PM EST

The explosion came before Alyson could react. The podium was immediately incinerated and the blast spead, filling the room with fire in seconds.

The bathroom rumbled and the sinks exploded, the basins flying across the room and water soaking Josh and CJ. One of the basins narrowly missed Josh's head and, grabbing CJ, he ducked into a stall. But the toilets and urinals blew too and they had to risk leaving.

The sky was falling, CJ thought as they ran down the hall, the ceiling falling on them in chunks. Grasping hands so they wouldn't be separated, they headed for the stairwell leading down to the exit. But they got to the first landing and heard the rumble of fire coming up the well. They flung themselves face-first against the wall and CJ grabbed out for something, anything. By some miracle she found a doorknob. It was a janitors' closet. They dove inside and slammed the door. As the fire passed, the door bubbled, but stayed up. Both praying in the tradition of separate religions, they clutched each other and waited for either salvation or death. Then the walls collapsed.

9:37 PM EST. Josh Lyman's office.

Donna stood at the window as she waited by the phone. She could see the Capitol building, or what was left of it. Staring at the fire she breathed, "Josh."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

January 20

9:16 PM EST. Oval Office

Bill Fryer, the Secretary of Education, had been chosen to sit out of the State of the Union. He was sitting on a couch in the Oval Office with a cup of coffee, musing how the walls would look better painted pastel green when the room shook, causing him to spill his coffee all over the Seal of the President. Swearing, he looked around for paper towels. Then he stopped. Were they under attack?

"Hey!" he yelled to everybody and nobody in particular. "What was that?"

The President's secretary, was her name Debbie, came in. "Sir," she said, her voice trembling. "I think that was the Capitol."

"But the Secret Service--"

"Most of them are there, sir." she said, "Hopefully we'll get a phone call in a few minutes."

"Who's still here?" Fryer asked.

Debbie thought for a second. "There's you, the assistance staff, a few guards, and the cleaners and chefs. But the cabinet and senior staff are there."

"Go wait by the phone."

"Yes, sir." She left.

"Mr. Secretary!"

Two more women ran into the room, an older one and a young blonde. Several Secret Service agents were right behind them.

"It was the Capitol building, sir." one of the agents, a young man with a shaved head confirmed. "It just exploded."

"What do you mean?" Fryer snapped.

"I mean, sir, that some kind of explosive device was set off in the Capitol Building. We don't have much information, only a cell call from an agent who went outside for a smoke and was locked out."

Fryer was silent for a second and the others waited. Then he barked, "What the hell are you doing standing there? Call the police, fire, ambulance, FBI, the friggin' Potomac River Militia, everyone! Get your asses out there!"

"Yes, sir." the agent said. He and the others, except Donna and Margaret, filed out.

"You two," Fryer said, "Who do you work for?"

"Josh Lyman."

"Leo McGarry."

"Go tell the rest of the assistants if, by some chance, they don't know. Then go to Leo's office and wait by the phone. Apart from me, that'll be the office they'll call."

"Yes sir."

Donna went to Josh's office to get the work she'd been doing. She knew there was no way she could finish it now, but it gave her a little bit of a feeling of realism to do her job. She didn't know what logic made her figure that.

She sat down at his desk, numb. The Capitol had blown up. The worst case scenario they always prepared for but never expected.

She mentally listed all the people that had been there. The President, the First Lady, Leo, Josh, Toby, CJ, Charlie, Sam...wait, had Charlie been there?

January 20

12:43 PM EST

"Charlie, you look terrible."

"Thanks." Charlie said, giving Sam and Donna a weak smile as they passed in the hall.

"I'm serious." Donna said, "Are you sick?"

"A little." he admitted.

"You should go home."

"Naa, I'm okay."

"Go home." Sam said.

"Seriously, I'm okay. State of the Union tonight, I can't go home. See you later."

"If you're sure then."

They parted. "He should go home." Donna said.

Sam shrugged, taking a sip from his ever present coffee cup. "The President will send him home as soon as he sees him."

January 20

9:27 EST. Charlie Young's apartment.

The phone ringing pulled Charlie out of a bizarre dream involving a giant rabbit and a flying fork. His eyes still closed, he fumbled around on the floor for the phone.

"Hello?" he mumbled.

"Charlie?"

"Yeah." Who was this?

"Oh my God, Charlie, did you hear it?"

"Donna? Is that you?"

"The Capitol just blew up."

He was wide awake now, leaping out of bed and throwing on a pair of pants he found on the floor. "Are you at the White House?" he asked.

"Yeah. Me and Margaret and the other assistants. I know you're sick, but please hurry."

"I'll be there in a minute."

He hung up the phone, threw on a jacket, and hurried out the door, ignoring the urge to puke in the hallway.

As he got toward the center of the city, the streets were clogged with emergency vehicles. Finally he pulled over onto the sidewalk and half-ran, half-stumbled seven blocks to the White House. He was astonished to find only a single guard at the door. He nodded solemnly at Charlie as he passed, flashing his ID.

9:50 EST. Josh Lyman's office

Donna was still in Josh's office. She knew she should go to Leo's, but she wasn't sure she could move. A shadow filled the doorway and she looked up, half expecting to see Josh's ghost standing there.

It was Charlie, trembling and sweating profusely. She got up and threw her arms around him. "I thought you were dead." she choked out.

He gave her a second, and then said, "What happened?"

"The building blew up right at the beginning of his speech. I saw the TV feed disconnect and me and Margaret felt something like an earthquake. You can see the flames from here."

She was right, but Charlie didn't want to see them. "Does Secretary Fryer know?" he asked.

"Yeah. He ordered the Secret Service guards to call anyone they could for help."

"Is he in the bunker?"

"The bunker?"

"Where is he?"

"Last I saw, the Oval office."

Charlie whirled around and ran out. "He has to go to the bunker." he said as Donna followed him. "What's stopping them from attacking the White House? There's barely any security right now."

Donna hadn't even thought of that. As Charlie strode into the Oval Office, she went to see if Margaret had recieved any calls.

Margaret and Carol, CJ's assistant, were sitting in Leo's office. They were silent and Donna could hear Charlie arguing with Fryer in the Oval Office.

"Sir, please."

"Are you going down? Are the assistants?"

"But we need you to be alive, sir." Charlie said, "We may need--"

He didn't finish, but Donna knew what he was going to say.

We may need you to be President.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

January 21. 3:30 AM. EST. Capitol Building rubble

Kevin was a Red Cross volunteer from Virginia. He and his wife had been watching the ten o' clock news when they had interrupted the weather to announce that the Capitol Building had blown up. Not being the most political guy in the state, Kevin hadn't been watching the State of the Union. So he was shocked to find out and got prepared to head to Washington when the call came. It came about fifteen minutes later and he and Sheryl had joined their local chapter and headed up.

Now he sat in what remained of the parking lot, surrounded by the flaming skeletons of federal limos. He wished he could be inside, searching for survivors, but he was old and had a bad leg so they assigned him to man the food and medical supplies. He would've complained, but he knew now wasn't the time. Sheryl however, was in there and he was terrified that she wouldn't come out.

One man was found within the first hour of searching. He was a Representative from Arkansas and he had been there with his wife. Now he was conscious, but pinned under a ceiling beam.

"Karen," he said as four rescue workers lifted it off of him. "Where's my wife?" No one answered him as they got him onto a stretcher and carried him away.

An obviously dead body was found about fifteen minutes later. The workers all knew that this was more like what they were going to find. They worked carefully, solemnly sifting through over twenty feet of debris.

The agent who had called the White House was sitting in the back of a Red Cross van with Kevin. He was uninjured except for a scratch across his face. "I should have been in there." He kept saying, staring down at the cup of coffee in his hand. "My job is to protect the President to my death."

"Son, if it hadn't been for you, we wouldn't've gotten here as soon as we did. You've saved a lot of people's lives."

The young agent, who was named Tyler, gave him a disbelieving look, but said nothing.

5:51 AM EST. Leo McGarry's office.

Donna, Margaret, Carol, and Charlie sat in silence. Occasionally one of them would clear their throat as if to speak, then think better of it. Charlie had finally convinced Secretary (or was it President?) Fryer to go down to the bunker, along with the two Senators and Representatives that had stayed out, and Debbie, who was the only one who knew the way except Charlie, who had no intention of going down. The Congressmen had come from their undisclosed location and had been immediately escorted down.

Donna leaned back against the back of the chair and closed her eyes. She didn't mean to fall asleep and thought there was no possible way she could, but when she opened her eyes sunlight was peeking into the room and the others were also asleep. The phone rang and everyone jumped about a foot before scrambling for it. Margaret got it first.

"Leo McGarry's office." She said automatically.

The others watched intently as she listened. After a few seconds her face drained and she closed her eyes. "Yes, thank you." She said in a surprisingly strong voice, and hung up. As soon as the phone was out of her hand all show of strength was gone and she crumpled onto the floor in a very un-Margaret-like way, sobbing. Donna knew what the call had been.

After a few seconds Margaret got herself together. "They found them." She said, "They identified Toby, Leo, Sam, and Mrs. Bartlet."

Donna felt like her heart had been flattened. But at the same time there was the slightest glimmer of hope. Whoever had called, they didn't say anything about Josh.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

January 21.

11:23 PM EST. The Capitol Building ruins

They weren't going to find anymore survivors. Kevin could feel it. They'd pulled ten people out of the wreckage so far. Of the ten people Kevin had recognized only one, a Representative from Virginia and he had died shortly after they found him. So had two others. The President hadn't been found. Several of his senior staffers and the First Lady had been found dead. So had several others. All the bodies found in the main chamber had to be identified by dental records. It was gruesome.

It was nearly midnight, but still they worked. One group was sifting through what had been a stairwell. One volunteer, an eighteen year old college student named Fiona, moved aside what had been several stairs and was now a charred mess, and found a hand. She screamed. Then she realized that the hand was connected to a wrist. And an arm.

"John!" she yelled to the man in charge of the group, "John, I found someone!"

"Alive?" John called back in a dull voice.

"I-I don't know."

She touched the hand. It was cold, but she felt a pulse in the wrist, faint but steady. "Alive!" she yelled.

Forgetting their exhaustion, the rest of the group hurried over. Everybody but Fiona started hauling pieces off of whoever was down there. Fiona grasped the hand. It was probably a woman's, with long fingers and a small gold ring. Wiping away some of the grime, she could make out the shape of a goldfish on the ring.

"Can you hear me?" she called down, "We're getting you out."

There was no answer. She continued to clutch her hand as they worked. Finally they got enough off so that John could go down and pull the woman out. He pulled someone's arm off of her and lifted her out of the hole. Fiona and another volunteer, Kenny, pulled her out. She wore a green dress that was burned and dirty. Her face and hair were a mess and for some reason she was soaked. But Fiona still recognized her. It was CJ Cregg.

"Guys, there's someone else down here too."

John called up to them just as the older man, Kevin, came out with a stretcher. They loaded CJ's limp form onto it, then turned back to where John was. "There's a guy down here." he said.

"Alive?"

"I don't know. Doubt it."

John scooted out, dragging a man with him. He was wet too and in about the same shape as CJ was. "Get another stretcher over here!" John barked. "He's alive!"

Fiona ran off to get another, then she and Kenny carried the unconscious man to an ambulance.

January 22

12:10 AM EST. Mercy Hospital

There had been a slowing of patients during the past few hours but the doctors were prepared when two gurneys were rushed in.

One of the nurses asked for identification. "She's CJ Cregg." Fiona told him as she ran with the gurney. "I don't know who he is."

The nurse reached into the man's pocket and pulled out a tattered wallet. He opened it and pulled out a White House ID card. "Lyman." he read.

"I recognize that name." Fiona said, "Isn't he a senior staffer too?"

"Josh Lyman and CJ Cregg." the nurse said. He stopped John. "Call Leo McGarry's office. We've been updating them there. This is something they've probably been waiting for."

12:34 AM EST. Leo McGarry's office

They'd been sitting in Leo's office for over a day now. Charlie was even sicker and now was lying on the floor with his back to them. He wasn't wearing a shirt and normally the women would've teased him relentlessly, sick or not, but right now they were too wrapped up waiting. Since the first phone call they'd also learned that the vice-president, Nancy McNally, Admiral Fitzwallace, Speaker of the House Walker, and most of the Congresspeople had been found. None were alive. And, whoever kept calling said, obviously hundreds more had been in the chamber, but they had probably been incinerated. Carol threw up when she heard that.

A couple hours ago, though, they'd received some news that cheered them up slightly. A little girl had somehow survived the blast. She was in critical condition, but the doctors were optimistic. Her name was Jenny Cauller, daughter of Senator Graham Cauller (R. Mississippi).

But since then the phone had been silent. Now Margaret was looking down at her hands, occasionally choking back a sob. Carol was gazing out the window, her chin resting on her hand. Donna was typing her reports on Josh's laptop. Normally she would want to be done as soon as possible so she could get on to other things (like considering what might be in that Private folder) but today the busywork kept her grounded. After a while she was fully absorbed. On normal days this was when Josh would normally yell for her.

Instead the phone rang. Margaret looked up and almost robotically picked it up. Donna knew this was it.

"Yes." Pause. "She is. They both are. Okay."

She put the receiver down on the desk, then turned on the speaker phone.

"Hello?" the caller said, "Is it on?"

"Yes." Carol said.

"My name is John Kerrick. I'm with the Red Cross."

"Hi." Donna said cautiously.

"I'm calling to report that Claudia Cregg and Joshua Lyman have been found and are currently at Mercy Hospital being treated for injuries inflicted during the explosion."

Carol fell to her knees. Donna gripped the side of the desk. "Th-thank you." she stammered.

"We'll continue to call every time." Mr. Kerrick said, and hung up.

Donna was already out the door by the time he disconnected.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

January 22

1:28 AM EST. Streets of Washington D.C.

Donna was no athlete, but she didn't even notice the throbbing pain in her side. There was only one thought in her mind: He's alive!

She reached an intersection. As she ran through, barely slowing as the light turned yellow, she remembered what she'd said about not stopping for red lights if Josh was ever in an accident.

Mercy Hospital was about five blocks further. The crowd started a block away. Reporters and spectators were packed in, kept out of the building by FBI agents. Clutching the lanyard holding her White House ID, she shoved her way through the wall of people. The reporters found her almost instantly.

"Ma'am, I can see by your ID that you work at the White House. Are you personally acquainted with the injured White House staffers?"

"How do you feel knowing they are alive?"

"How do you feel about the deaths of the others?"

"How do you feel about the current lack of adequate security at the White House?"

"What are your plans for the future?"

Donna continued to shove her way through, ignoring the questions and the flashbulbs in her face. When she got to the front an agent stopped her. "I'm sorry ma'am," he said, "but you can't come in."

She showed him the ID. "My boss is in there." she said. The questions being fired at her became louder and more insistent.

The guard was hesitant. "What's your name?"

"Donnatella Moss."

"And your position?"

"Senior assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff."

"Do you have proof?"

She showed him the ID. "I'm sorry, but that's not a photo ID. I'll need more."

"Like what?" she snapped.

"I'll call in for your file."

"My file? How long is that going to take?"

"An hour, two at the most. But we only have a few people there."

"Please! I just want to see Josh!"

"And you will. I just have to make sure you are who you say you are."

"So, what do I do until then?"

He shrugged. "Mingle?"

He was making a joke and Donna knew that, but that didn't stop her from slapping him across the face. He smiled and shook his head condescendingly. "Ma'am, I realize you're upset, but don't be taking it out on me. It's standard policy."

A red handprint was forming on his cheek. She glared at him, realizing that the crowd was oddly hushed. The photographers were still snapping. They'd probably gotten her slapping that agent. CJ was going to kill her.

"Ms. Moss," the agent said, "Let me call in for your file. If everything fits, which I'm sure it will, please accept the FBI's deepest apologies. But we're in the middle of a national emergency right now and we have to take every precaution with what little security we have. If you want, you can wait in one of our vans. You look freezing."

"Thank you." Donna said, trying and failing to keep her chin from trembling.

The agent radioed for someone. Another agent, a woman in her forties, approached. "Come with me." she said, leading Donna around the building. The agent elbowed a reporter in the face as he tried to snap their picture. It didn't look like an accident.

She brought Donna over to a black SUV and opened the back door for her. "What do you need to know?" Donna asked, a note of desperation in her voice. "I'll tell you anything. Please just let me in."

"We can't. I'm sorry."

She half-helped, half-pushed Donna into the car and closed the door behind her. She stayed there, guarding Donna against the flood of reporters that were approaching.

A cell phone rang. She let it ring for a second, then realized it was hers. Since when did she have a cell phone? She reached into her pocket and fished it out. It was Josh's. She must've taken it in the pile of papers she'd picked up off his desk. She wondered for a second why he hadn't brought it with him, then figured she should probably answer it.

"Hello?"

"Good, it is you. I wanted to come down but I'm worried about leaving Margaret alone right now." It was Carol.

"Isn't Charlie there?"

"Yeah, but the poor kid has a temperature of a hundred-four."

"They're not letting me in." Donna said, "They have to get my file."

"Your file?"

"So they know I'm not a terrorist. How's Margaret?"

"Torn up. I mean, we all are, but she won't move. She's not even crying anymore. Just staring…"

"Stay with her. I'll be back there later. We'll figure everything out."

"Okay."

Carol hung up. Donna did the same then leaned back, letting the reality of the situation sink in for real.

The President was dead. Sam was dead. Toby was dead. Leo, Mrs. Bartlet, everyone. Nearly the entire administration had been there. Tears started brimming her eyes again. She would never hear Toby yelling about, well, everything or tease Sam about his quirky ways. She'd never see Leo come storming into the bullpen to yell at Josh for doing something stupid again. Nor would she see all of them celebrating in the hallway after a successful speech or appointment. It was all gone.

But Josh wasn't. Neither was CJ. At least not yet. So what the hell was she doing sitting here while they were in there, possibly dying?

She looked out the tinted window. The agent was still there. There was no way she could get out without her noticing. The keys weren't in there, so she couldn't drive up. How could she do this?

Maybe she should just wait. It would only be an hour or two, he'd said. But then she thought of Josh in there, alone and in pain. If he was dying, she wouldn't let him die alone.

The door creaked slightly as she opened it and she held her breath. The agent was yelling at a reporter who had somehow managed to get by her barrier. Donna slipped out of the SUV and ducked down. Once she was sure no one was watching she broke into a run toward the crowd. The stunned agent followed but Donna soon lost sight of her in the mob.

She shoved some people out of her way and ducked others. An elbow smacked her nose and she felt blood running down her face. She kept pushing through and finally broke out at the front. This time she didn't stop. She jumped one of the cement barriers and dove through the open door. Nobody followed for a moment. Then she turned back and saw two agents following her.

A nurse walked out of the station and Donna grabbed her. "Tell me where they're taking the survivors!" Donna yelled, clutching the nurse's collar. The terrified nurse pointed down a side hallway and Donna let her go. With the agents tailing her she raced down the side hall.

Near the end there was an examination room filled with people. She shoved a linen cart out of her way and ran in. The doctors were too shocked to do anything but let her through. Several examination tables filled the room. She clutched the one nearest to the door, panting, and her eyes widened.

Josh was lying on the table. His face was bruised and swollen and his hair was matted and bloody. He was still wearing the suit she'd help pick out two weeks earlier (actually, she'd been the one to pick it, he'd been the one to complain that he was bored and when could they leave this stupid store?.) only now it was ripped, burned, and soaked.

"Josh?" she breathed, touching his hand, which was amazingly unmarked. He barely looked like Josh, burned and gashed like that. The only proof that he was alive was the steady beeping of a machine sitting next to him.

The agents that had been chasing her burst in and each grabbed one of her arms. "Josh!" she yelled as they dragged her out and down the hall.

The camera flashes blinded her when they got outside and once again she thought about how angry CJ was going to be.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

January 22

9:45 AM. EST. The White House

Bill Fryer came out of the bunker two days after going in. Later on he would write in his memoirs that his first act as President was to get the Senior Assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff (or Deputy Deputy Chief of Staff, as she called herself) out of an FBI holding cell.

President, he thought as he came out, blinking in the sunlight. Am I really ready for this?

There was no doubt in anybody's mind that Josiah Bartlet was dead. According to investigators, the explosion had started somewhere very close to the podium. There was no possible way he could have survived. And nobody of higher rank than Fryer had been found alive.

Ten minutes after he made the call, an FBI van pulled up and Donna was escorted in. she was furious, but held her head high.

"Her file, please." Fryer said. An agent handed him a thin manila folder.

"As soon as they leave I'm going back down." Donna said.

"And you may, ma'am." The agent said. "It looks like everything is in order. We're sorry for the inconvenience."

Donna's eyes practically shot sparks at him. Fryer stepped back. "We'll be leaving sir, but I promise there will be more security here as soon as possible."

"Thank you."

The agents walked away, leaving Fryer alone in the lobby with a fire breathing Donna. He expected her to leave immediately but she stood there glaring at him, impatiently shifting her weight from foot to foot. "What?" Fryer asked.

"Are we done?"

"Say what?"

"Are we done, sir? Am I dismissed?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure."

Donna started quickly walking down the hall, then broke into a run when she thought he couldn't see her anymore. Fryer watched her go, then shook his head and walked to the Oval Office.

He was hesitant to go in. The other night he'd been excited about being in there. It was the Oval Office, who wouldn't be? But he'd never expected that the reason he was staying out would actually ever happen. He still wasn't fully sure that this hadn't been a twisted dream. If he went in there, sat at the President's desk, went through his drawers, it would just be the ultimate disrespect.

Bartlet's aide, Charlie, met him in the hall. Suddenly even more uncomfortable, Fryer attempted to stammer out an excuse. But Charlie just nodded and opened the door for him.

The Office was just as Bartlet had left it two days earlier, down to the plastic pens he'd scattered over his desk in his attempt to find a good one. "If you need anything, sir." Charlie said, and left, shutting the door behind him.

Still unwilling to sit at the President's desk, Fryer sat down in one of the chairs and took out his notebook. He needed to find a new cabinet and senior staff.

After an hour or so he only had two names, neither of them people he'd trust with his life. This was going to be more difficult than he'd thought before.

His thoughts wandered back to last night. Once they were certain President Bartlet was dead, he'd been sworn in as President. Debbie Fiderer had held the Bible for him and with the remaining Congressmen standing around him, a justice from Arlington had administered the oath. Fryer felt detached, numb, as he solemnly swore to uphold the Constitution and to do this job to the best of his ability. That feeling of scurrility had remained the whole time he was down there and had now followed him back above ground.

He thought of his daughter. Tina was a senior in college, a beautiful brown- eyed girl who looked more and more like Fryer's own mother everyday. His wife had died when Tina was five years old, so the two of them were incredibly close. It killed him not to know where she was. She, along with the Bartlet girls, had been taken to a safe location. But she had been able to call him in the bunker the day before. It was a quick call on a secure line. She told him that they were all together and surrounded by Secret Service and as soon as she could she'd come to Washington.

Who could he get? No family, that would be nepotism. I could get Charlie to help me, he thought. Then, no way, that kid was friends with all those people who worked here before. That would be just cruel. That also cancelled out Donna, Carol, Margaret, hell, the entire staff. This was going to take a while.

10:30 AM. Mercy Hospital.

Donna had been sitting in the waiting room for forty minutes. Carol was going to meet her as soon as she could find someone to stay with Margaret.

A soap opera was playing on a tiny TV in the corner. A few people glanced at it from time to time, but most were anxiously watching the door, waiting for news.

Carol hurried in and sat in the airport-reject chair next to her. "Have they said anything?"

"No. How's Margaret?"

"The same."

"Since last night?"

"As far as I know. One of the interns drove her home."

"Is anyone staying with her?"

"Same intern. God, I hate this!" Carol slammed her fist on her armrest. An old woman looked up from her rosary beads and smiled sadly at them.

"This is Margaret, not some little kid!" Carol continued, "Why? Why Leo?"

"Why any of them?" Donna asked quietly, "Why Sam? Why Mrs. Bartlet?"

A doctor appeared in the doorway and everybody held their breath. He walked over to the old lady who'd smiled at Carol and began talking quietly to her. She burst into tears and put a fist to her mouth, rosary beads falling to the floor. Donna watched them land, the glass cross shattering. A younger man in an orderly uniform took the old woman by the arm and led her out of the waiting room. Everyone else went back to their own waiting.

Finally a doctor approached Donna and Carol. "Are you friends of CJ Cregg?" she asked.

"Yes." Carol answered, her heart pounding.

"She's stable and we're pretty sure she's going to make it."

Tears of relief and shame filled Donna's eyes. She'd been so busy thinking about Josh that she'd barely thought about CJ.

"Can I see her?" Carol asked.

"Yes. But she's still unconscious and will be for a while."

Carol stood up. "Are you coming?" she asked Donna.

Donna nodded and got up. They followed the doctor down the hall into a crowded recovery room. Walking between rows of beds, Donna recognized several Congressmen and women.

"All the victims were brought here, so we're pretty tight on space." The doctor explained, "We want to get some of them to George Washington and St. Peter's soon. Then there'll be a little more room."

Donna saw a little girl lying on one of the beds. Her hair was gone, but she was still adorable. That had to be Jenny Cauller. Her father had managed to shield her just enough during the blast to save her.

CJ was near the end of the room. Her face was heavily bandaged and she was breathing shallowly. Carol reached out to take her hand but the doctor knocked her away. "You can't touch her." She said, "We have to keep the patients as sterile as possible."

Carol opened her mouth to say something. "Please understand," the doctor continued, "I'm not trying to be mean. I know how you feel. My cousin is a senator. He was killed."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. "I'm sorry." She said, "Soon everything will be a little calmer, but until then we can't risk it. Plus, you've seen the security. Who knows what could happen?"

Carol nodded. Donna looked down at CJ. Even though she wasn't awake, she looked like she was in a lot of pain.

"Why don't you go home and rest." The doctor said. "You look exhausted, both of you. I bet you guys at the White House have been working non-stop."

Donna fingered her ID. "Except for those eight hours in jail." she said quietly, but the doctor heard her and her eyes widened.

"That was you?" she said, "My colleagues told me about what happened. You were trying to get to Mr. Lyman?"

"Yeah."

"They're still working on him. Nobody's certain about anything yet."

Donna remembered how he'd looked and was once again near tears. He couldn't die. Not after everything he'd already survived.

"Go home." The doctor said, "I promise, we'll call you once there's any news."


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

January 22

12:24 PM. EST. The Oval Office

Seven people. He'd been sitting here for nearly three hours and he had only seven names and a marginful of doodles to show for it. Time to prioritize.

"Chief of Staff," he said, "That's what I need first."

He looked back at his list. Morrison? No. Kelley? Definitely no. No, no, no, no, no. None of them. He didn't trust any of them enough. He'd surrounded himself with imbeciles during his political career.

What about the people here already? He definitely wanted to keep Charlie, if he would stay, that was. He liked the kid. And the assistants. But he needed a cabinet and a senior staff. People with experience and skill. The FBI would probably be able to help him. He got up, wincing as his knees creaked, and went out to Debbie's desk to make a phone call.

Twenty minutes later the Office was overflowing with boxes and boxes of candidates. Two interns continued coming in carrying more boxes as big as they were. Fryer briefly considered hiding under the couch, then decided it would be a bad thing for these young people to see the Commander-In-Chief and leader of their nation afraid of cardboard boxes.

"Last one sir." One of the interns said, dropping a box dangerously close to Fryer's foot.

"Thank you." He said as they left. He was trapped by a wall of boxes and manila folders. Tripping over one and scattering its contents, he found his way back to the chair and began his quest.

Another hour went by. His stomach was growling. Were you allowed to eat in the Oval Office? He wanted food, but didn't want to stop what he was doing. He'd already gotten through seven of the fifty-six cartons of potential candidates, dividing every file into either the Yes, No, or Maybe pile. The Maybe pile was by far the largest, followed by No, with Yes lagging behind with a grand total of three folders. He thought for a second, then got up and went down to the Mess.

He came back half an hour later to see Debbie standing in the middle of the insanity. "I'm sorry, sir," she said as he came in, "But there's a phone call for you."

"Who?"

"Your daughter Christina."

He started to head for her desk but she held him back. "The phone is over there." She said, pointing at the President's desk.

"I'll use yours, it's already off the hook."

"Sir—"

She didn't finish. Fryer wasn't sure if she could, but he knew what she meant. He couldn't avoid it forever. But it had been only two days.

"I'll take it on your phone."

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

Fryer walked out to her desk. Charlie was sitting at his own desk, typing something. He stood when Fryer came out. Fryer waved him down, then picked up the phone. "Hi, sweetie."

"Dad!" Tina exclaimed, "I can come on Friday!"

"I can't wait." He said, emotion creeping into his voice. He missed her so much right now. He wasn't sure he could wait almost another week.

"How is everything?" Tina asked. "I mean, we've been watching the news here, but I've been so worried about you. And Mr. Harris. Have you heard from him yet?"

"No." he said, feeling his stomach clench. James Harris was an assistant to the Secretary of Transportation and had been friends with Fryer and Tina since Tina was a baby.

"I'm sure we will." She said, but her voice was quavering. "Daddy, I have to go. I promise I'll call again before I come."

"I love you, Tina."

"Love you too. Bye."

They both hung up. Fryer sighed and took off his glasses. Polishing them on his shirt, he went back to the crate he'd been working on.

2:30 PM. EST. Red Cross tent. Capitol building rubble.

Fiona had to go back to school. She didn't want to leave but John insisted that she go. It had been two days, he said, they weren't going to find anyone else alive. There was nothing else she could do here and it was time for her to go back to Long Island.

She put on her hat and slung her bag over her shoulder. Now she had to catch a bus to catch a train to catch a plane home. Just the thought of all that traveling made her head spin. Plus, she was reluctant to leave before she could see CJ. She'd tried to go to the hospital but she'd been in Search and Rescue, then Recovery. She'd had no time. She'd also seen in the paper how difficult it was to get in. one the front page of John's paper this morning there had been a picture of a woman being hauled out of the hospital. The caption underneath said that she was a White House employee. If they weren't letting them in, Fiona had no chance.

She stepped out of the tent and looked at the debris. That was all that remained of Capitol Hill. And they still didn't know who had done it.

She passed John on her way out. "Thanks for your help, Fi." He said, "We would've missed them without you."

She blushed. She had only been a tiny part and she knew it. "Bye John." She mumbled.

He smiled. "I hope I don't see you for a long time."

"Me too." Next time they saw each other, she knew, would be at another emergency situation.

Sitting in the airport several hours later, she read the New York Times. The same White House employee was on the front, along with another picture of her slapping an FBI agent. Fiona wondered if she was friends with CJ or that other guy.

There was an article about Bill Fryer, the former Secretary of Education/New President of the United States. There wasn't very much information because they still hadn't had a press conference with him. They also had the latest death toll. It was set at two hundred twenty-six dead or missing and nine hundred forty-two injured. Nearly the whole federal government had been there. How were they possibly going to start over again?


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

January 22

10:45 PM. EST. Donna Moss's apartment

Donna was staring dully at some stupid talk show. She'd already called the hospital three times and each time it was the same response. "Nobody knows anything for certain yet."

She shut off the TV and stood up. She'd go back and wait. She'd done it once before.

She reached up on a shelf to get her car keys and knocked a dusty picture frame off. She caught it, but didn't look at it. It was from last year's State of the Union ball. For once Josh hadn't sent her off on some humiliating task and she'd had a really good time. She didn't look at the picture but couldn't keep it from shoving its way into her mind. Sam, Josh, CJ, and her, all semi-posed in the Rose Garden. Toby had taken the picture, then yelled at Josh for sticking his tongue out and ruining it. Donna'd considered blackmailing Josh with it, but had never been able to find the right occasion.

Donna shook her head, trying to get rid of the image. She carefully placed the frame back on the shelf, face down, and left.

The picture stayed in her mind as she pulled off of the curb and started down the street. She reached over and flipped on the radio with trembling hands. It was on a rock station. She hated the song that was on but turned it up and tried to concentrate.

The waiting room was less crowded than earlier. One woman was still there that she recognized from before. She sat in a corner, surrounded by people but at the same time she seemed completely detached from all of them. She had a Newsweek on her lap but her eyes weren't moving and she never flipped the page. Donna kept glancing over at her.

A doctor came in. "Ms. Cauller?"

The woman looked up. She was more of a girl, Donna realized, she couldn't be much older than eighteen.

"Your sister is awake."

The girl stood up, dropping the Newsweek, and followed her out. Donna picked up the magazine, which was still open to the page Jenny Cauller's sister had been on. It was about the Democrats' new environmental plan, something Josh had been agonizing over and negotiating for months. There were quotes from both him and Sam about it. Why Sam, she didn't know, but he seemed to know what he was talking about. She closed the magazine, tossed it back on the table, and left. She decided to go down to the recovery room and see if Carol was down there or if CJ was awake. It had only been twelve hours but she could hope.

Carol was there. She sat on a stool beside CJ's bed. "Aren't you supposed to be at home?" she asked when Donna stopped beside her.

"Aren't you?"

"I'm not tired."

"Me either."

Donna knelt down beside them. "Have they said anything about—" Carol asked.

"No."

They sat quiet for a while. All around were the sounds of machines, crying, and breathing. Occasionally someone would say something and their voice would drift through the entire room.

Some time after midnight the doors opened and two nurses wheeled a gurney in. "Are there any beds left?" one of them asked the head doctor.

"Over there." She pointed to a bed a few down from CJ. "Who's that?"

"Lyman."

"White House guy?"

"Yep."

Donna, who'd been listening, jumped up and ran over. The nurse cringed as Donna nearly ran into her.

"I told you to go home!" the doctor exclaimed. "Why are you back?"

Donna ignored her. The nurses moved Josh to the bed and stepped back. There was not stool so she knelt down beside the bed.

"We're still not sure about anything." The nurse said, glancing at a clipboard in her hand. "But we're cautiously optimistic."

Donna couldn't speak. She wanted to take his hand but remembered what the doctor had said earlier about germs. He looked like CJ with the bandages.

"You can stay for a few more minutes." The doctor said, "Then, for the love of God, please go home. We don't' have space for you if you collapse from exhaustion."

"I did go home."

"Did you sleep?"

"No."

The doctor rolled her eyes. "Two minutes." She said, "Then you and Carol both leave."

January 23

6:07 AM. EST. The Oval Office.

Maybe it had been a stupid vow to make. I'm not leaving until I find a Chief of Staff, he'd said on the thirtieth box. Now he was on the forty- second and the Yes pile wasn't much bigger than it had been twelve hours ago.

Debbie was helping. Once she'd realized what he was doing, she'd offered to help. Fryer had refused at first, but she had insisted, saying that it was her job. So now they sat together amid a storm of paper.

"Tristan Gray?" Debbie asked dully.

"Let me see."

He took the file, glanced at the photo, and tossed it in the No pile.

"He irks me. I've seen him on TV."

"Sir..."

"Hang on!" he exclaimed suddenly, "I've got it!"

He raced out of the room, wondering why he hadn't thought of this before. Debbie stared after him for a second, then looked at the mess around her. "So should I start cleaning this up?" she wondered out loud.

11:58 PM. EST. Mercy Hospital

Stacy, a surgical nurse, was halfway done checking on the patients one last time before her shift ended. She looked up and saw a shadow in front of the end window.

"Who's there?" she called.

"Just me."

Stacy was so relieved to hear Kenny, the head of the next shift, that she didn't even notice that his voice was coming from her left. The window was directly in front of her.

"I'm going to head out." She said.

"Okay, I'll finish this up."

Kenny went from bed to bed, not looking up once. He quickly finished, then went into the tiny office off to the side to finish some paperwork. Another one had died today.

Once the door of the office as nearly shut, with only a sliver of light cast on the floor, the figure by the window moved. With slow, silent steps he approached Jenny Cauller's bed. She was asleep. So was her sister, who had been granted permission to stay with her. The figure stood over them for a moment, then turned around and went to a bed near the end of the room. He stood over the bed's occupant for a few seconds, then she stirred and half-opened her eyes.

"Hey there, shmutzy-pants." She murmured.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

January 24

10:28 AM. EST. The White House Press room.

Today was the day. President Fryer's first press conference. He stood right outside with Charlie and Carol.

"You have your information, sir?" Charlie asked.

Fryer patted his pocket. "Right here."

"Okay." Carol said, "Remember, you don't have to say anything unless they ask. No speech or anything."

"Yeah."

"Good luck, sir."

Charlie opened the door and Fryer walked in. Immediately he was swarmed with questions and flashbulbs. He ignored everything until he got to the podium, just like Carol had said to. Then he pointed to a man in the second row.

"Mr. President, do you know who was responsible for the explosion?"

"We don't know yet but the FBI is investigating several leads."

He pointed to a woman with curly hair. "Sir, who do you plan to hire as your Chief of Staff?"

"Again, I am still looking into potential candidates."

That was almost a lie. He was occasionally glancing at other folders but he knew who he wanted. He just didn't want to announce it just yet in case something came up.

"Do you have anyone in particular in mind?"

"Yes." he replied, "But I'd rather not announce it just yet in case it falls through."

Of course this statement brought a whole new barrage of questions. Everyone wanted to know who it was and why he wouldn't tell. Fryer tried unsuccessfully to regain order.

Charlie and Carol were watching from the side of the stage. "I think that statement ranked up there with Josh's secret plan to fight inflation." Charlie muttered.

Carol groaned. Now all of tomorrow's papers were going to be running the fact that the new President was keeping important facts from the American people.

Fryer pointed to the third row. "You."

"Sir, do you have any information on the condition of the two surviving Senior Staffers?" Danny Concannon asked.

"I do." Fryer replied, relieved to be off the topic of his Chief of Staff. "Both are expected to survive."

"Any idea on their conditions?"

"Both are still unconscious, but will be fine."

He went on answering questions. About half were inquiring about his new Chief of Staff.

"I'm not sure yet." he said finally to the seventh question. "As soon as I'm sure he's able, I will release his name. Yes, you in the forth row."

"Who is going to be your First Lady?"

He was ready for this one. He'd discussed it with her the night before.

"I've asked my daughter Christina to take on that responsibility and she has accepted." he said, "Yes, in the third row."

"How do you think the staff and the people will respond to your having a child running the country with you?" the woman next to Danny asked.

Fryer clenched his fists under the podium. "Christina is twenty-two years old, a political science major, and a former Capitol intern." he replied, "I have complete confidence in her ability and it is my hope that everyone will share that confidence and show her respect. She is by no means a child, ma'am."

Carol came up and handed him a note. She looked tense. He took it and glanced at it.

"Good news." he said, "CJ Cregg is now conscious and they say she's 'responsive and alert'."

Another flood of questions. Fryer turned to Carol, knowing what she wanted, and nodded. Carol ran out.

"Is there anymore information."

"Just what I've told you. I'm sure she'll be back and ready for you all to torment her again very soon."

They all laughed. "Next question."

"Are you sure?"

"About what? That there's no more information? Well, there's a comma on here that I didn't say, but I didn't figure you'd need that."

He continued answering questions for another hour. Technically he only answered about a third of them. All of the others were about who he was choosing as his Chief of Staff.

You'd think they'd catch on after a little while, he thought as he left.

11:39 AM. EST. Mercy Hospital

CJ was a little dazed, but she was sitting up. "Hey boss, rise and shine." Carol said, sitting down next to her.

"What happened?" CJ asked, "They won't tell me."

"The building blew up."

"The Capitol?"

"Yeah."

"Everybody made it out, right? Sam didn't mention anyone dying."

Carol frowned. "Sam?"

"Yeah, Sam."

Maybe it was a different Sam. A doctor or a nurse. "Sam who?"

"Carol, Sam! Sam Seaborn! When he came last night he wouldn't tell me anything."

Carol felt her eyes fill again. "CJ..."

"What?"

She wondered if it was too early to tell her, then knew she had to. "CJ, Sam's dead."

CJ paled. "They all died. Everyone but you and Josh."

"Josh?"

"He's a few beds down. CJ, I'm so sorry."

"I just need a few minutes." CJ said.

"Yes, ma'am."

Carol walked away. Trembling, CJ looked down the row of beds and saw Donna sitting by one of them. She looked away before Donna came back. A tear ran down her face and she furiously wiped it away. Dammit, he couldn't be dead!

All of them...

1:45 PM. EST. Margaret's house.

He was dead. Deaddeaddeaddeaddeaddeaddead.

Margaret threw the bed covers off of herself but didn't get up for a few minutes. She hadn't left her bed in nearly a day. Just thinking sapped her energy.

Finally she sat up and looked around her bedroom. After she finally got that idiot intern to leave, she'd pretty much lost her mind. She vaguely remembered throwing her things everywhere, shattering the mirror.

She'd loved him. Not in that mushy romantic kissy-kissy way but that other way. That strange love that you don't understand and when others ask you about it, you fumble around for an answer, wondering how to word it. Wondering only to realize there is no way to explain it. It just is.

The kitchen was right down the hall. She went out and filled a glass with water. She watched all the bubbles pop, then took a small sip. Her stomach was empty but the thought of eating made her want to vomit.

She reached into the cabinet and took out a small bottle. Fumbling with the childproof cap, she pried it off and shook out two small white pills. She placed the painkillers in her mouth, swallowed them with another sip of water, and went back to bed.

4:30 PM. EST. White House guest room

He couldn't even sit at the President's desk, let alone sleep in his bed. So Fryer had been sleeping in one of the little used guest rooms, far away from the Main Residence. He was in there contemplating his Yes pile when the phone rang.

Still reading about the schooling of one Randall Oswald, he reached over and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"It's your First Lady." Tina's teasing voice made him drop the file.

"I saw the press conference on C-SPAN." she continued. "I thought Liz was going to crush me, she was hugging me so tight. I didn't tell her before."

"Liz?"

"Bartlet. We're all still together in our undisclosed location. They're coming to D.C. with me on Friday."

Still five days away, Fryer thought.

"So, are you going to tell me who your Chief of Staff is?"

"When you get here, sweetie. Remember, you have to get your own staff together.

"Can't wait."

"I have a ton of files you can look through."

"Thanks. I have to go, Dad. I'll try to call again tomorrow."

"Bye. Love you."

"Love you too."

Fryer hung up and went back to Oswald's file. He'd seen this guy on TV a few times and had liked his style. He already had a Chief of Staff but he needed a Vice President...


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

January 26

He must've fallen asleep working on the speech with Sam and Toby. The State of the Union was in two nights. He had to remind them that Leo wanted to add a part about educational spending. Bill Fryer had asked them too. Leo liked Bill. Wasn't he staying out of the speech this year?

Why hadn't anyone woken him up? They probably did something to him while he was asleep. It wasn't a Tobyish thing to do but Sam wasn't above it. And if CJ or Donna happened to come in...

They'd done something to his face. It felt like it was covered with something. Tape. They'd duct taped his face.

What the hell? I outrank them all.

Not opening his eyes, he reached up to pull the duct tape off. Someone pulled his hand back down. Now they were going too far. They needed to work on the speech.

"Okay, you guys have had your fun. Let me up." Why was his throat so dry?

"Josh?"

Donna sounded concerned. She hadn't been in on it. A savior had arrived!

"Josh, are you awake?"

"Where's Sam? I'm going to kill him."

"Josh!"

He opened his eyes. He was lying in a hospital bed, not the couch in Toby's office. Why was he here?

A thought hit him. He was still there from being shot. Had his entire life had been a dream since then?

"Josh?"

CJ was there too. No, this wasn't right. The President was supposed to be there. Him and Leo.

He smiled at them. "Hey."

Donna grabbed his hand. CJ wheeled in a little closer.

Hang on, wheeled? Why was CJ in a wheelchair? And why weren't they working on the speech? They needed to get it done perfect tonight so that the President could come in and tell them that he wanted to make a few quick changes, no big deal.

"We have to finish the speech." He said, "Why aren't we there? You left Sam alone with Toby two days before the State of the Union? What's the matter with you? Do you people have no souls?"

He'd expected at least a sympathy laugh from Donna. But neither woman said anything. "What?"

"I'm going to go get a doctor." Donna said. She got up and left.

Josh looked over at CJ. "What?"

She didn't answer. Why did she look like she was about to cry?

"CJ, what's going on? Why am I here?"

CJ was spared having to answer by the arrival of the doctor. "Welcome back Mr. Lyman." She said.

"Why won't anyone answer me?"

"About what?"

"About what the hell is going on!"

"Calm down." The doctor said patiently, "You seem alright but I want you to rest a little while before we talk."

"I'll rest after."

"Sir, please."

"Josh."

Donna was crying too. "Please, listen to her." She said, "I know it's tough for you to do but please, just this once."

"Alright, but not long." He was dizzy anyways.

5:15 EST. Mercy Hospital Mess

Donna ate the last bite of the radioactive goo they called lime Jell-O and dumped her tray. She sat back down and looked out the window. It was getting dark, she noticed. So much for not long. Josh had been asleep for seven hours. Maybe she should go back up.

She was outside the recovery room when a nurse stopped her. "Dear, Mr. Lyman isn't in there anymore."

Donna's throat tightened. "Why not?"

"We had to move him to another room. He was threatening a nurse with his IV needle."

Donna couldn't decide whether she wanted to laugh or strangle him.

"He's down the hall. Fourth room."

"Thanks."

When she got to the room Josh was arguing with a nurse. When he saw her come in he said, "Donna! Tell me what the hell is going on!"

Donna looked at the nurse. "Could you leave us alone for a little while?"

The nurse gave a sigh of relief and left. Donna sat down and Josh watched her expectantly.

"The building blew up." She said.

"The White House!"

"No, the Capitol. The State of the Union was almost a week ago. Terrorists—someone-- set off a bomb. Nearly everyone was killed."

"That's impossible! The security-"

"I don't know. No one does."

"Who made it?

"You, CJ, a few others who weren't on the House Floor."

"Why wasn't I?"

Donna shrugged. "I want to talk to CJ." Josh said, "She's got to have some answers."

"I'll go get her."

Donna got up to leave. "Donna?" Josh called as she got to the door.

She turned around. "Everyone?" There was a hint of pleading in his voice.

She nodded. "Get CJ."

She came back a few minutes later wheeling CJ. CJ's bandages were gone but the cuts were still visible all over her face. The doctors were amazed at how less serious her injuries were than they had thought.

CJ squeezed his hand. "How?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"I don't remember any of it. I thought we were still working on the speech. Why weren't we in there?"

"You left to use the bathroom or something. Leo got mad and sent me after you."

"Tell me everything."

She spent the next fifteen minutes telling what had happened to them, plus the things she had learned since she woke up.

When she was telling him about the footsteps in the hall behind her, she unconsciously squeezed his hand even tighter. It wasn't until he yelped in pain that she realized it.

"Sorry." She said, "I was about to start running when you grabbed me. You had a lighter and – why'd you have a lighter?"

"I must've been carrying it for the president. I've had to since that debate."

"Oh..."

She finished telling the story just as the nurse returned. "Ms. Cregg!" she exclaimed, "You shouldn't be in here! The doctors are panicking."

Josh looked at Donna. "You kidnapped her?"

She gave him a wicked grin and he rolled his eyes. The nurse took CJ away.

"I have to go." Donna said, "We cancelled the meetings and stuff, but we still need people there. I'll come back as soon as I'm off."

"Okay. Bye."

But it was obvious that he was shaken from CJ's story. Donna felt bad about leaving, but she had to.

Once she was gone, Josh thought about everything CJ had said. One thing stuck out. Leo had died mad at him.

10:00 PM. EST. J. Edgar Hoover building.

So many agents were killed. Before the FBI headquarters had been overflowing with people. Now barely half remained.

Agent Caleb Christian sat at his desk, facing a mound of paperwork. He was thinking about how he was in for a long, boring night when the fax machine wrrred to life. He took the paper from it, laid it on his desk, then picked it up again.

We killed him. We killed the bleeding-heart son of a bitch and his whole administration. Come and find us. We will kill you too.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

January 27

11:30 AM. EST. Mercy Hospital

The President and First Lady's funeral was broadcast on national television. By now most of the patients were spread out into semi-private or private rooms, so nearly every TV in the hospital was tuned into CNN to watch.

CJ, Josh, Donna, and Carol were all sitting in Josh's room watching. It was a beautiful service in Manchester. People were spilling out the doors and even the priest was crying as the First Lady's coffin was carried in. The President's body hadn't been found.

The service lasted a little more than an hour. Several people got up and made speeches, including Zoey Bartlet. She was surrounded by Secret Service agents. The halls of the hospital were silent except for the sounds of weeping from the rooms.

Leo's funeral was that day also. It was in Washington D.C. and he was going to be buried in Arlington National Cemetery. They didn't broadcast his whole funeral but many stations showed clips from it. Josh couldn't even watch the clips CNN showed after the Bartlets' funeral was over.

Sam and Toby's were the next day, across the country from each other. One in New York City, the other in Orange County. No news stations covered them and the newspapers, with the exception of those places, only had two or three lines about them. Josh had tried to sneak out of the hospital to get the Orange County but he'd been caught before he could get to the front doors. It didn't help that his foot had been crushed by a falling beam during the blast and he was crawling by the time the nurse caught him. If it hadn't been for the damn johnny I'd have made it out, he thought as the man forced him into a wheelchair.

"I have to go to Orange County." He said, trying to sound more authoritive than he looked, staring up as the nurse wheeled him down the hall.

"I'm sorry, sir," the nurse said, sounding very unsorry, "But you can't leave the hospital yet."

"But—"

"No." The man steered him into his room. "I'm sure that whatever business you have in Orange County can wait until you're better."

Josh didn't say anything as the man left. Then he picked up a bedpan and lobbed it at the door. It hit the wall nearby and cracked in two, falling to the floor with a crash.

January 29

12:45 PM. EST. The White House

Tina barreled past the agents and into her father's arms. He gripped her tighter than he ever had, even after her mother died.

"Oh my God, I've missed you." Tina said, "I tried to come earlier, but I couldn't. National security, they said..."

"I know." Fryer said. "It's okay. I knew you were safe."

He looked over her head and saw the three Bartlet girls standing awkwardly by the helicopter. He let go of Tina and approached them.

"Your father was an incredible man." He said, "I have no idea what to say to you."

They'd all been crying. That was obvious from their red eyes. But they all stood dignified right now.

"Thank you sir." Ellie said, holding out her hand to shake.

They all wanted to go into the Residence and rest. Liz's husband and kids would be there in a few hours and she wanted to be more together for them. When they had left, Fryer and Tina went into the room he'd been staying in. Tina tripped over one of the boxes Fryer had had sent up from the Oval Office.

"You went through all of these?" she said wonderingly, standing up and tip- toeing through.

"Most. You can go through them later and find a staff and chief and such."

"Speaking of which, you promised you'd tell me who you chose. Who is it?"

"Promise not to leak?"

She pouted with mock hurt. "Of course."

He told her. Her eyes widened. "He'd be so great."

"You just think he's cute."

"WHAT?"

He smirked. "I heard you talking to Kerri that day. 'He's a total babe. Who'd of thought a politician could be so hot,'" he mimicked as she sputtered indignantly. "Come on." He said suddenly. "We have to get going."

2:05 PM. EST. Mercy Hospital

The staff was going nuts. The new President was coming to visit. He was mostly there to talk to the injured staffers but he was also going to visit all the survivors.

Josh's old friend, the nurse he'd threatened with the IV, brought him down to CJ's room. Fryer had asked to see them together. She was dying to know what was going on, but didn't want to show it. So she left him there with an indifferent shrug, vowing to get the information through the gossip lines.

Fryer came in, followed by Tina, Charlie, and three agents. Charlie hadn't been able to come at all up until now because he'd been so busy with Fryer. CJ grabbed him by his tie and pulled him low enough to give him a smacking kiss.

"We have a few things to discuss." Fryer said after all the greetings were done. He sat down at the end of CJ's bed. "It may be a bit too soon, but I need to know. CJ, do you still want to be White House Press Secretary?"

She thought for a second. "Yes."

He turned to Josh. "Yes." Josh said immediately.

Fryer shook his head. Every jaw dropped, including those of the agents who quickly shoved them back into place and resumed staring emotionlessly.

Josh gaped, his mouth opening like he was going to say something, then lost it. Finally it was CJ who broke the silence.

"I quit."

The agents just barely managed to keep their jaws in place this time.

"If he goes, I go." CJ continued.

"He's not going anywhere." Fryer said, "But I can't hire him as my Chief of Staff if he's still the deputy."

It took a few minutes for this to sink in. "Ch-chief of Staff?" Josh repeated.

"That is, if you want it."

"Yes, yes definitely." He stared wide-eyed at everyone. "It's just...wow."

Fryer smiled at CJ. "You still want to quit?"

"No sir." She said quickly, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I liked that you did that. You're a loyal person, CJ. I feel like I can trust you."

"You can, sir. Definitely."

Fryer turned to Donna, who was turning purple in Josh's death grip. "Donna, I'd like you to be Josh's deputy."

She pried Josh's arms off her neck. "But sir, I—"

"You what?"

"I dropped out of college. I don't have the knowledge or skill to do this."

"Oh, come on Donna." CJ said, "Look who's been doing it for the past few years."

"Yeah." Josh agreed, "And...Hey!"

"If you can manage to sign up for some political courses, great. Do so. You're probably right about not having some of the knowledge. But Donna, with the work you've done in the past week, I won't believe that you don't have the skill. Do you accept the job?"

"Yes, sir." She said quietly.

Fryer checked his watch. "We have to leave. Donna, be back by seven. I have some interviews you'll need to sit in on. Josh, CJ, see you soon."

9:25 PM. EST. Margaret's house.

No wonder he drank. If Margaret hadn't been completely turned off of alcohol by always having to nag Leo, she'd probably be drinking right now. But for now the pills were okay. They didn't block the pain entirely but they did numb it somewhat. She could sleep, which was all she really wanted to do.

She never really had nagged him about the pills, had she?


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

January 31.

4:07 AM. EST. The White House

The phone was ringing. Fryer shot up from his bed and grabbed it. "Hello?" he gasped, his heart pounding.

"Sir, this is Agent Christian from the FBI."

"Caleb," Fryer laughed weakly. "Don't you know not to scare an old man like that? I nearly had a heart attack."

"I'm sorry sir, but we have big news."

"What's that?"

"Several people involved with planning the bombing on Capitol Hill have been arrested."

Fryer fell back against his bed. "Congratulations, Agent Christian." he said.

"Thank you sir." Christian said. His voice was sad.

"What's wrong?" Fryer asked.

"Well sir, it seems that one of our men was involved."

"Who?"

"Tom Dunlay. Age twenty-seven. Killed in the blast. We were all thinking he'd died a hero's death, sir."

"I'm sorry." Fryer said. He tried to think of anything else to say, but found nothing.

"Thank you."

"I want updates every half-hour."

"Yes sir."

7:15 AM. EST.

"Josh?"

"I'm up here, CJ."

The hallway was longer than it had been. She was walking toward his voice, aware the whole time that there were footsteps behind her and hot breath down her neck.

A hand grazed her waist from behind and she broke into a run. Josh grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the bathroom but it wasn't Josh, it was someone else, someone with no face and Josh was dead and there was a gun at her temple. The gun went off---

CJ's eyes flew open. The sun was just starting to peek into her window. Hands shaking, she sat up and poured a glass of water from the pitcher on her table.

It was a few minutes before she could get the feeling of the gun out of her mind. Why a gun? There hadn't been a gun. The only time she'd actually ever seen a gun or heard one was in Rosslyn. Sam had saved her life that night but he hadn't told her. He didn't want her to be -- what was the word? She couldn't remember.

"Hey boss."

Carol poked her head in the room. "Hey!" CJ called, waving her in.

Carol sat down. "How's it going?" she asked.

"Pretty good. I still can't feel my legs though. What's new with you?"

"Danny wants to come see you."

CJ frowned. "Okay, I guess. But he's not getting a quote."

"No, I don't think so." Carol said, "I'm not sure what he wants, but he said it was important."

"Fine. Do you know when he's coming?"

"Sometime in the next few days. He also said that he found out who it was that found you and Josh if you're interested."

CJ choked on a sip of water. "How'd he find out?"

"One of his 'sources'." Carol replied. "He said it was a girl, Fiona Jeremy. She's a Red Cross volunteer and a freshman at Long Island University Brooklyn."

CJ didn't say anything for a long time. "Ma'am?"

"Carol, you think you could get me some paper and a pen?"

"Sure."

"Thanks."

Carol left and came back about fifteen minutes later with a notebook and pen. CJ wrote "Dear Fiona" at the top of the first page, then stopped. What could she possibly write to the person who saved her life?

February 2

12:15 PM. EST. The Oval Office

Gary Freeman was nice enough and an excellent writer but how could he possibly replace Toby Ziegler? Donna felt sick to her stomach as Fryer said, "You're hired." It was official. The Bartlet administration was no more. It was now the Fryer administration.

At nine that morning they'd had a meeting with Randall Oswald. Now Fryer had a vice-president. He had everyone he needed except for a Deputy Communications Director.

"Charlie."

Charlie leapt to his feet as Fryer came into the room.

"No, sit down." Fryer said. He pulled over Debbie's empty chair and sat down. "Charlie, how would you feel about becoming deputy for Gary Freeman?"

"Deputy Communications Director?"

"Yes."

Charlie was quiet for a moment, then said, "I'm honored you asked, sir, but I'd really prefer to stay an aide."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir."

Fryer stood up. "If you're certain, then I would be honored if you would continue to be aide to the President."

"Yes sir."

Fryer grinned. "Get back to work."

"Yes sir."

As he was walking back into the office, Fryer shook his head. That was a good kid right there.

"Oh, Charlie."

"Yes?"

"They caught them."

"That's excellent news, sir."

"Yeah. Well, I'll be in my office."

He left. Charlie went back to work, a broad grin crossing his face.

February 4

5:00 PM. EST. Mercy Hospital

"Hey CJ."

CJ opened her eyes. "Hi Danny."

He soberly sat down next to her. "Carol said you want to talk about something important."

"Yeah. I'm going to write a book."

CJ groaned. "No, Danny. The last thing we need right now is some glitzy tell-all book."

"Not that." Danny said, "Not a piece of tabloid crap. A real book, a book worthy of the Bartlet administration. I would like it if, when you're ready, you and the rest of the staff will help me write that book."

CJ swallowed, trying not to cry. She took a deep breath, nodded, then lost it into Danny's shoulder.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

February 5

9:45 AM. EST. Mercy Hospital

"I'm free!" Josh yelled as Donna helped him out to her car. A couple of birds who had been crazy enough to spend the winter in Washington D.C. were pecking at the frozen ground, but fled when his voice shot across the parking lot.

Both he and CJ were going home today. Neither could go back to work for another ten days or so, but they were not nearly as injured as many of the others. CJ still couldn't walk because her spine had been injured, but the burns on her face and arms were healing. Josh, with the exception of his broken foot, was also healing and the doctors had decided that they could do the rest of their recovering at home. Josh wanted to go back to work but he knew that ten days was nothing compared to last time. Plus, he could always get Donna to bring him his work.

His apartment was exactly how he'd left it, including the open carton of milk sitting on the counter. Donna nearly vomited as she poured the gloppy mess down the drain.

"I was going to put that away when I got home." Josh said as she gave him a disgusted look. She shook her head and they both sat down on the couch, trying to ignore the overpowering stench.

"I should probably get started on my work while I'm stuck at home." Josh said, "You know what my first job is?"

"There's an executive order for you to not do any work until February fifteenth. But other than that..."

"Donna!" Josh whined but she shook her head. "It's only ten days. Suck it up, Joshua."

10:50 PM. EST. Margaret's house

She just wanted to sleep. Just close her eyes and never have to open them again. How many pills would that take? How many had she already swallowed?

The pill bottle was empty. Searching her cabinet, Margaret found another. Up to Two Per Day, the label read. Margaret took eight, walked into her living room, and collapsed onto the floor.

Leo was standing over her. He smiled. "Margaret, what the hell are you doing?"

"Leo?"

"Are you really ready to go?"

"Yes."

He reached down and took her hand. She stood up and followed him out the front door, leaving her body behind.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

February 6

9:00 AM. EST. The White House

Donna put the phone down with shaking hands. "What is it?" Carol asked.

"Margaret's dead."

All the color drained from Carol's face. "What happened?"

"I don't know. Her neighbor noticed her front door open, went in, and found her lying there. That was the police on the phone a second ago."

Donna was crying. "Why do we have to go through this?" she yelled, "Dammit! Why?"

February 7

10:00 AM. EST. Supreme Court

They called themselves a political party, but Josh thought that they were more of a cult. A cult bent on world domination. If that wasn't straight from a bad action movie then he didn't know what was. They called themselves the United Front and their leader was Roger Grainger. He was a small man wearing an expensive suit and a neutral expression. When he was called up to the stand he invoked his Fifth Amendment right on every question, even though the judge forced him to answer most of them. His second-in-command, Glen Crocker, however, spilled everything.

They'd planned the bombing to throw everything into a state of chaos. While everyone was running around like chickens with their heads cut off (Crocker's exact words), Grainger would rise up as a leader. From there they would gain the trust of the American people and use their power and resources to over throw governments around the world. It was such a preposterous plan that it never should've gotten off the ground except for the fact that one member of the Front was in the FBI. Thomas Dunlay. Crocker explained his role.

"He was in the President's protection unit. When he went through the building beforehand to check it out, he slipped the bomb under the podium. During the speech he detonated it and BOOM! The whole place was gone!"

"But why not recruit Bartlet? He'd've been useful to you, wouldn't he?"

Crocker thought about it for a second. "Yeah, I guess. But he would've fought Grainger for the power. Nobody but Grainger can rule us."

CJ was sure she'd be ill. Josiah Bartlet had been killed by these guys? This had to be a sick joke.

"Explain Dunlay's role."

"I did."

"Step by step."

"Alright. First he let in another one of our guys who cut the power lines. He escorted him down past all the security. Then he cut around on the second floor and went out and chained the doors shut. He was supposed to get far away, but I guess he had to set it off right then because they found him near the door."

Went around on the second floor...CJ could hear the footsteps behind her again and jerked around. Carol looked at her, concerned, but CJ just shook her head.

She and Josh weren't testifying for a few days but both of them were here, along with Donna and Carol. They all felt it was their responsibility to their friends to watch justice carried out. They were here for everyone who'd died that night, whether physically or in their soul.

"Do you feel your mission was a success?"

Crocker glared directly into CJ's eyes. She gazed steadily back.

"Not quite."

February 8

1:00 AM. EST. Supreme Court

CJ went first. The room was silent as she wheeled up to the stand. Several other survivors had testified but she was the only one so far who had known the President personally.

For twenty minutes she sat up there telling them what had happened. She spoke quickly, trying to get it over with. But several times the defense stopped her and asked for her to go into more detail. Every time the man raised his hand to stop her, Josh imagined sticking it in a food processor. Why couldn't he just let her talk?

"You say you found a closet of some kind?" one defense attorney said right after CJ had stated that fact.

"Yes."

"And the explosion missed it?"

"No."

"Then how are you alive?"

"Dumb luck?"

"Ms. Cregg—"

"Fine. I don't know. The walls were probably concrete or something. Yeah, that's probably it."

"Alright, so you got into the concrete closet. Then what?"

"That's what I was about to say when you interrupted me." She knew that being snarky probably wasn't the best idea right now, but this man was really pissing her off.

"So go on."

"Thank you. So we got in there and waited either for the fire to come in and get us or pass. Apparently it passed but then the walls collapsed. I remember one beam landed on Josh and I was trying to pull him out from under it but then I got pinned too. I remember everything falling around us and on top of us and it was so hot..."

She couldn't finish. Avoiding the defense's hostile eyes, she scanned the crowd. She recognized a few of the reporters from the press room.

Who was that in the back? Dark brown beard and a scowl. His dark, pissed off eyes met hers. Don't give up, they said. Don't be a coward.

"Ms. Cregg?"

CJ shook her head. "Yeah, everything sort of surrounded us, then stopped. We huddled together, not able to move. I thought we would suffocate. Then everything shifted and fell. I must've been hit then because I don't remember anymore.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Thank you. No further questions, Your Honor."

Josh went up next. He still didn't remember all that much of what had happened. CJ wondered how well they'd take that.

"Mr. Lyman," the prosecution lawyer said, "Please tell us the events of the night of January twentieth."

"I don't remember much."

"Tell us what you do remember." This man was patient and his eyes were sympathetic, the opposite of the hard look on the face of every defense lawyer.

"I-I remember it was hot. Ungodly hot. And the noise, it was like a train or something. But mostly the heat."

"Is that all you remember?"

"Yeah."

"No further questions."

Josh watched him go back to his table. That had been too quick. The defense was going to stomp all over him.

A different defense lawyer got up. He strode over to the witness stand.

"Mr. Lyman, you claim that upon waking on January twenty-sixth, you still thought it was January eighteenth. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"So you do not remember anything."

"I remember the heat."

"Yes, we're all aware of that. But is there anything else? Anything at all?"

"No."

"No!" the lawyer shouted triumphantly. "Ladies and gentlemen," he nodded to the jury, "this man is unable to provide any information for this hearing. He is merely being paraded up here to evoke sympathy for the prosecution."

"Objection!"

"Sustained." The judge said, "Mr. Masters, please?"

"My apologies, Your Honor," said the lawyer, who had to be Mr. Masters.

"It's not like they need me up here to get sympathy." Josh muttered, "Your client already killed off their families."

"Mr. Lyman," the judge said. Masters glared at him.

"What was your first recollection upon waking?" he asked.

"I thought several of my colleagues were playing a joke on me."

"Then what?"

"I noticed I was in a hospital."

"Then?"

"I saw my assistant sitting next to me."

"Before that."

"Nothing."

"Nothing? That's not what it says here." Masters waved a piece of paper in his face. "What I have here is a transcript of your discussion with the prosecution before this hearing began. I quote, 'My first thought was that I was still in the hospital from Rosslyn, what had happened there. That my entire life since then had been a dream.' Do you recognize those words?"

"Yes." What was he getting at now?

"Who said them?"

"I did."

"Mr. Lyman," Masters said, "Is it true that you suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?"

Josh's heart started racing. How did he know that?

"Yes." He muttered.

Masters leaned closer. "Didn't catch that."

"Yes!"

"Funny. Doesn't seem like something that a senior staffer for the President should be able to have."

Josh wasn't sure how he should answer that or whether he should at all. So he sat and waited for Masters to speak again.

CJ was furious, but at the same time worried. She'd known that Josh had PTSD and she knew what could happen because of it.

"Sufferers of this dreaded disorder," Masters's voice softened on the last two words and Josh could tell that the man was mocking him, "often have violent episodes in which they may lash out and hurt themselves or others. Isn't that true?"

"No."

"No?"

"Not often, no."

"But they do occur."

"Yes."

"Has this ever happened to you?"

"What does this—"

"Please answer the question."

"It has nothing to do with—"

"It has everything to do with this investigation."

"How?"

"Do you have control over your actions during these episodes?"

"Yeah."

"Complete control?"

Josh didn't answer. "Please answer the question." The judge said.

"No."

"No you won't answer?"

"No I don't have complete control over my actions at those times."

His face was deep red. This man was purposely humiliating him. But for what purpose? What strategy was he trying now that his sympathy argument had failed?

"You don't?" Masters turned again to the jury. "Ladies and gentlemen, did you hear him? He has little control over his actions at random times. I strongly urge you to disregard this witness because he is obviously not of sound mind."

"Objection!"

The prosecution table exploded with yells. Mortified, Josh glared at Masters who smiled smugly back.

"Mr. Lyman, you can't tell us anything, can you? You can't even tell us that the Capitol blew up!"

"Look outside!"

"Do you remember it?"

"Yes! I told you what I know!"

"But isn't there a possibility that it never happened?"

Josh laughed. "_I'm_ not of sound mind? Are you honestly trying to prove that?"

"I'm talking about in your memory. Do you think that maybe your recollections could be a product of your mind?"

"What are you, a shrink?" Why was his voice so high?

"Josh." Masters's voice was soft and attempting to be calming, "We need to know this. Let's put the facts together. You have PTSD, a disorder that causes you to lash out and lose control. It also causes flashbacks. Is there even the tiniest possibility that the heat and noise you remember could be a flashback to the night you were shot?"

"They're trying to prove that he's crazy." Carol whispered to Donna. "Dammit, if the jury agrees they'll disregard his testimony. We've only got so many witnesses."

"They aren't seriously trying to prove that they didn't do it? I mean, they confessed."

"No, they'll be found guilty. But his testimony could mean the death penalty for Grainger. Did you notice that he and CJ are the only witnesses from inside?"

Donna was watching Josh. His eyes were wide, darting around the room. He was trying to buy time. Then he fixated on something in the back of the room. His eyes widened even more for a second, then he smiled.

"Mr. Masters," he said, "Then differences between my memories of the night I was shot and the night of January twentieth are enormous. As far as I know, gunshot wounds aren't accompanied by the fires of hell. And I've had enough 'violent episodes' to know the difference between a flashback and a plain memory. Who do you seriously think you're kidding?"

About an hour later, CJ and Josh were sitting in Donna's car, waiting for their assistants to come back out. "CJ?"

"Yeah."

"This probably sounds nuts but when you were up there, in the back of the room, did you see—"

"Toby."


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

February 11

4:25 PM. EST. Supreme Court

Guilty. Every juror voted guilty. Now they just had to wait a week for sentencing. In the meantime, Grainger and several of his top officials were being held in a maximum-security prison.

"Why is it only the top people?" Josh asked later that night as they sat around his table eating Chinese food.

"They can't get everyone." Donna said, "I mean, that's over a thousand people. Probably way more."

"I think that's nuts." CJ said, digging through the lo mein. "How can that many people actually support such a wackjob?"

"Read your history, Claudia Jean." Josh said, "More people than that have supported equally crazy people. I just wish there was a way we could lock them all up. Too bad it goes against the Fourth Amendment, thus pissing off many people who will in turn make our lives living hell."

"Yeah." Carol agreed, taking the lo mein from CJ.

"Remember what Ainsley said about us 'loving the Bill of Rights except for the Second Amendment'?" Donna asked.

Josh laughed. "Yeah. I thought Sam would blow a blood vessel. 'This is not the place to discuss gun control!'"

They were all quiet for a moment. Even after nearly a month it still hurt to talk about it.

"You know, I saw him." CJ said suddenly.

"Sam?"

"Yeah. That night I woke up. I saw him standing there next to me. I didn't know what was happening or where I was. But I knew he was there. He held my hand and sat with me."

"Maybe it was a dream." Donna said.

"No, it wasn't. I was awake."

"You may have thought you were." Josh offered.

"Were we dreaming that day in court when we saw Toby?"

Josh was quiet. "He didn't say anything." CJ continued, "Just sat with me. And I knew..." Her voice was thick with tears. "I knew it would be okay. Whatever had happened, we'd pull through."

She paused long enough to wipe her eyes. "The next morning when I woke up he was gone. But I thought he'd be back later. Then Carol came and she told me he was dead."

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. Josh raised his glass. "To the Bartlet Administration."

Murmuring the same, the others clinked their glasses with his.

February 14

10:45 PM. EST. Josh Lyman's apartment.

Chief of Staff. He was going to be one of the most powerful figures in the Executive Branch. Up until now it had been unreal. But tomorrow he was going back to work.

What would Leo think? With the number of times he'd screwed up his own job, was he really ready to take on Leo's? Was Leo watching, wincing at what was to come?

Josh took off his tie, threw it across the room, and fell backwards onto his bed. I shouldn't've accepted, he thought, I should've said no.

----------------------------------------

"Josh."

Josh's head shot up. He'd fallen asleep at his desk again.

Margaret was standing in his office doorway. "Leo wants to see you." She said.

"Right now?"

"Yeah."

He got up and followed her out the door. The west wing was empty, not even a custodian. Something wasn't right here.

"Where's Donna?"

"She's not here."

"Well, no kidding. Where-"

"You can go in." Margaret said, opening Leo's door.

Josh stepped inside and Margaret closed the door. Leo was sitting at his desk.

"Sit." He said.

Josh sat. "So, you're taking my place." Leo said, "I don't know whether to be relieved or petrified."

Josh didn't laugh. "Lighten up, Josh." Leo said, "You'll do fine."

"I can't take your place!" Josh exclaimed, "You're Leo McGarry!"

Leo looked steadily into his eyes. "The President thinks you can do it."

"What, Fryer? He's been there about a month. He doesn't know what a massive mistake he's making."

"No."

"No what?"

"You know, I wasn't mad. I was at first when you weren't there. But then I saw the flames coming at me and I thought, Thank God they aren't here. Let them escape. And you did. And now you're being promoted to a job I know you can do."

"Not without you, I can't."

"You will. President Fryer is going to need you. You'll do fine."

February 15

7:20 AM. EST. The White House

CJ wheeled over to her desk. Carol had been great about taking care of things but there was still a pile of folders on her desk and a massive stack of newspapers on the floor beside it. Sighing, she put down her coffee cup, pushed her regular chair out of the way, and picked up a Washington Post. She had a lot of catching up to do.

7:25 AM. EST. Leo McGarry's office

Josh hung around in the doorway for about five minutes before Donna literally pushed him into the room. He sat down uncomfortably in Leo's chair. Donna nodded, then went off to Josh's old office. He wondered briefly what kinds of plans she had in mind for it, decided he really didn't want to know, then picked up a newspaper. Like CJ, he'd been a little out of things for a while.

January twenty second. New York Times. On the front page there was a picture of a blonde woman being escorted out of Mercy Hospital. Maybe escorted was too light a word. Forcefully dragged was more like it. Then there was one of the same woman slapping an FBI agent. He chuckled and flipped the page. Then he froze. Was that..?

He flipped back. It was. It was Donna. He couldn't see her face very clearly, but he could tell it was her.

"Oh no." he murmured. "Good luck, Donna."

8:00 AM

"DONNATELLA MOSS!"

In Josh's old office, Donna winced and waited. "GET IN HERE!"

Donna gulped and followed the yelling to CJ's office. CJ was livid, clutching a newspaper. With a sinking feeling Donna realized what it was.

"What the hell did you do?"

"I-I-"She was towering over CJ for once but the older woman still terrified her.

"You assaulted an FBI agent? Had to be dragged out of the hospital? What's wrong with you?"

"I had to get in. And I didn't have a photo ID so they said they'd call for my file. But it took too long. CJ—"

"You could've been arrested!" In Leo's office, Josh listened to CJ yell. When she had first yelled he'd spilled coffee all over the report he was reading. But now he hadn't heard anything for a few minutes. Wiping the report the best he could, he continued reading.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'ONLY ONE NIGHT?"

Josh smirked. "I love it when it's not directed at me."


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

February 18

11:00 AM. EST. White House Press Room

"So the candlelight vigil will be held on the twentieth, commemorating the one-month anniversary of the attack. President Fryer will make a speech, along with several others. It will be held at Capitol Hill and begin at approximately nine p.m. Any questions?"

"CJ!"

"CJ!"

"Hang on." She said, "I've promised the first question to someone already."

CJ pointed to the back of the press room "Fiona."

"Fiona Jeremy. LIU-Brooklyn." Fiona said, standing up. "Does the White House have a comment on the sentences given to the leaders of the United Front?"

"President Fryer is greatly appreciative of the decision that the jury made and he believes it was the right choice."

"CJ!"

"Danny."

"How tight will security be at the vigil?"

"Extremely. There will be armed guards, bomb-sniffing dogs, the whole nine yards. And everybody, let's congratulate Danny on his book deal..."

11:45 AM. EST. Leo McGarry/Josh Lyman's office

Josh ripped open the envelope and shook out a single piece of notebook paper.

Dear Lyman,

Great. First you manage to screw up everything as the Deputy Chief of Staff. Now you're Chief of Staff? I wasn't a fan of McGarry, but I'd take the old drunk over you any day. Our country is going to fall apart with you helping run it. Might as well set off the nukes now and be done with it. They had two chances to kill you and none of them worked. Why?

Josh reread the letter, set it down on the desk, and sighed. "It's good to be back."

February 19

12:00 PM. EST. The White House

Fryer and Tina stood in the main lobby together and watched as the men opened the crate. Styrofoam peanuts spilled out and more came as they reached in and pulled out the frame.

"Are you ready for this job?" Fryer asked Tina.

"I think so."

"What are you planning to do about school?"

"I'll drop out while I'm here. I think this is a little more important right now. But once it's over I'll reenroll."

"You understand that that could be years. It probably will be."

"I know. But Mom got her degree in her thirties, didn't she?"

"Yeah, she did."

They turned back to the workers who were now setting the frame on the wall. Fryer couldn't see it clearly until they gave him a small nod and left.

The intelligent, open face of Josiah Bartlet gazed down at them from its permanent place in the White House.

February 20

9:00 PM. EST. Capitol Building remains

CJ had been right. The security was the toughest anyone had ever seen. They couldn't have everyone walk through metal detector frames but the Capitol police and the DC police walked around with handheld metal detectors, frisking everyone.

A podium was set up in from of the remaining debris, facing out toward Pennsylvania Avenue.

When the vigil began, all two thousand people lit their candles, passing the flames down the streets. A few people such as the mayor of Washington DC and the police chief made short speeches. At exactly nine-seventeen there was a moment of silence, shared by millions around the country who were watching on TV. Then CJ and Josh had gone up. Now it was Fryer's turn.

He stepped up to the podium and looked out at the crowds that flowed through the streets. There was a path in the middle that was guarded by cement barricades and police. He and the others had been able to get up through it without being crushed.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, fumbling with his index cards, "A month ago tonight, an unspeakable crime was committed against the American people. Our nation's very heart was ripped out. My first thought, sitting in the Oval Office that night was, how is this fixed? Nearly our entire federal government was destroyed. This couldn't be reversed. We went from a government of thousands to a Secretary of Education, two Senators, two Representatives, and a handful of White House assistants. But slowly we've begun to build ourselves back up. The cooperation between the three branches has been liked nothing I've ever seen myself, nor heard about in the past. With that and the support of billions around the world, my question has been answered. This can be fixed through the cooperation, determination, and hard work of the American people. If we work together we can rebuild. But that is the key. We have to work together. Whether we're Democrat, Republican, Libertarian, whatever! We have to put our political differences aside, if only for a little while, and get out government up and running once more. We owe it to them. We owe it to the victims of this massacre. Even if you disagreed with every word that came out of President Bartlet's mouth, you owe it to the people who died because of their belief in rule by the people. All those people were together in that room for one reason. They wanted to improve the government to improve the lives of its people. So now we must carry on that goal. We will rebuild. We will make it better than it has ever been before. We need more interparty cooperation, international cooperation. It may seem like an impossible dream, but we can do it. We have to. For the sake of the United States of America."

Because of the candles, there was only a scattering of applause. But the deafening screaming in response to that speech could be heard throughout the neighboring cities. Fryer gathered his index cards, which had fallen off the podium midway through his speech, and was about to step down when something caught his eye. Someone was standing in the middle of the path. It was President Bartlet. Fryer blinked, but he was still there. Nobody else seemed to see him. They were still screaming for Fryer. But Fryer stared, transfixed, at the lone figure at the end of Pennsylvania Avenue. Bartlet winked at him, then turned and started walking toward the White House, slowly fading into the soft candlelight.

THE END


End file.
